


M.I.T.R.O.N

by pessimisticidealist



Category: Friends (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Indian Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Indian Character, Multi, basically friends in 2016 india
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:11:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pessimisticidealist/pseuds/pessimisticidealist
Summary: Having just moved out of her parents' house, Manisha Gomes is struggling to get her bearings while her brother Royston deals with a strained engagement. When a new friend enters her life (and an old one re-enters it), it's about to take a turn for the better... and possibly the chaotic.FRIENDS, 20 years later and halfway across the world.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So... this was born of a flicker of an idea I had around October, and I tried to write this story for NaNoWriMo. Of course I only reached about 11K before giving up, but I've made a few tweaks to it and plan to make it more of an anthology series than a novel. There will be one chapter from each person's point of view, encapsulating different incidents from the show and throughout their lives.
> 
> There will be various cultural references and lines of Hindi dialogue scattered throughout the story, which I will explain and translate in the footnotes.
> 
> The events of the first chapter borrows heavily from the pilot episode of 'Friends', although hopefully no dialogue is directly lifted. If it is, please let me know.

“Hey, I’m Parth. You seem lovely. I’d love to go out with you sometime.”

“Hi! That would be great. How’s Sunday sound to you?”

Manisha Gomes grinned as she began scrolling through the long Tinder chat once again. _My first date!_ She’d had matches before, but never one that she’d liked as much as this guy. He was sweet, and funny, and seemed to genuinely respect her lifestyle… but what if he was different in person? _What if_ I _come off different in person?_ Shaking aside her apprehension, she continued scrolling, unable to keep the silly grin off her face.

“He's definitely a fake.” Her blissful reverie was suddenly interrupted by a figure flopping down on the couch next to her. “Just look at the photo. If he was really worth anything _,_ he wouldn’t need to post six shirtless photos.”

“If he was worth anything, why would he even be on Tinder, Chandu?” Manisha rolled her eyes at him. “Is it too much to ask to just be happy for me?” Gaining nothing but a shrug and scowl in response, she punched his shoulder. “Come _on_. I don’t have girls - sorry – guys falling at my feet like Javed does – I mean – he has girls, I guess…”

“You’re damn right I do,” Javed suddenly spoke up from the opposite couch, where he had been scrolling through his phone. “137 matches, dude. Can you imagine?”

Immediately, Chandu wrested the phone from him. “Dude, you’re playing Candy Crush.” Smirking, he showed the phone to Manisha, who couldn’t help but smile.

“Guys! Stop! I need some help from you!” she shouted, tugging at Chandu to separate them. “This is my first date, I’m 23, I need some sort of direction.”

Chandu looked up at her. “Well, for one, don’t wear those boring _kurtis_ 1 _._ Or these stupid garish ones either. Looking like Govinda 2 puked on you isn’t exactly a good first impression.” He pointed to the lime green and pink ensemble she was wearing.

Javed nodded. “You should buy something new. Seems like Indian is all you wear all the time.”

“I have some dresses!” Manisha protested. “I bought one just a week ago. See?” She took out her phone and showed them the photo she’d taken in the dressing room. “But…” She hadn’t waxed or prepped in any way, and the date was just in a few hours. Sensing her apprehension, Javed shook his head.

“Just wear tights and a shrug, dude.” So he _had_ figured it out. “Wait. Are you planning to have sex?”

Manisha felt heat pooling in her cheeks. “No! Dude!” Who had sex on the first date? “Okay, maybe you do that,” she continued. “I don’t even think I’m going to let him get close to me.”

Javed shrugged. “If you do, wear something nice inside. No one likes to see holey underwear…” He was cut off by Manisha slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“This is _my parents’ café_ , asshole!” she hissed. “No no, _please_ speak louder _,_ I really want them to know what kind of underwear I use…” Sensing a lost cause, she threw up her hands. “What do I have to do to get some _decent advice_ around here?”

Just then, the door of the café opened, and a tall, pale woman walked in, holding a guitar. She looked American, or maybe British, but her clothes seemed rather simple and worn-out. Certainly a tourist would be better dressed? More than that, they weren't likely to hang around this area, deep in the northern suburbs. “Who’s that?” she said. Getting no response, she watched the girl make her way to the stools set up for musicians, and start speaking into the mic.

“Hi everyone!” she said, in a soft voice with a very slight British accent. “I’m Phoebe, and I’ll be playing some songs for you today. I hope you like them.”

Manisha leaned back on her couch and stared at the girl, wondering what songs she would play. _Hotel California,_ perhaps; that was a favourite, as was _Summer of ’69_. If she had picked up some Hindi, she might try to sing _Give Me Some Sunshine_ 3 too. Manisha was dreading that, though; she was really sick of that song.

Phoebe began playing, and Manisha started, hearing some very familiar guitar chords. Her surprise was only compounded when Phoebe started to sing one of her favourite Hindi songs, without the slightest hint of an accent. Manisha’s mouth hung open as she went into the complicated guitar bridge. Who was this girl, and where did she learn to sing so beautifully? She had to talk to her and find out her story.

“ _Maal hai, yaar_ 4,” Javed said casually, casting an appreciative eye over the girl. “What do you guys think? Do I have a chance?”

Chandu snorted. “Well, you definitely can’t use the old _Give Me Some Sunshine_ trick on her.”

Manisha grinned at them. “Well, you guys discuss how to _woo_ her if you want, I’ll go get some food.” Sadly, even though her parents owned the café, they’d never give her anything for free. “Money, please.” She tapped on the table, and they both slid some notes onto it. “The usual?” Getting a reply in the affirmative, she headed over to the counter.

“Manisha! How are you?” a short waiter greeted her. “Are Chandu and Javed with you?”

“Hi, Ganesh.” She smiled at him. “Yes, the usual, please.” The three of them usually ordered chicken drumsticks and lemon cakes, since they were the cheapest things on the menu. “And one fresh lime soda.”

After he took down her order, she returned to her seat. Phoebe was now into the opening bars of _another_ of her favourite songs, and Manisha could only stare at her, mesmerized.

“I think you’re more into her than Javed is,” Chandu said. “I mean, she’s all you’ve looked at since she entered, what’s up? Should I tell Parth to cancel?”

“ _Chup kar_ 5 _,_ Sisodia,” she snapped at him. She didn’t need to justify herself to anyone. Even if she had been a tiny bit attracted to Phoebe, it wasn’t his business. “Anyway, her music is all I’m interested in. I wonder how she convinced my parents to let her play.”

“I wonder if she’d be convinced to let _me_ play with her,” Javed said. He had his typical grin on his face, part goofy and part sleazy. “Look, she’s gonna stop after this song. Shall I try?”

Manisha elected not to answer him, and turned away from them both to listen to Phoebe, folding her arms. How on earth had she ended up with such a pair of idiots as her best friends?

When Phoebe was halfway through her next song, their food arrived, and the three of them dug into it. Manisha ate less than the other two, knowing that her mother’s disapproving eye would reach her the moment she ate more than she ‘should’. Instead, she simply sat back and sipped at her soda.

After what seemed like no time at all, Phoebe wrapped up her segment with another beautiful cover _,_ earning her enthusiastic applause. She was sure to come back as a regular now. As she was packing up, Manisha made her way over to her.

“Hi, do you have a few minutes?”

Phoebe looked at her, wide-eyed. “Sure? Tell me.”

“No… nothing bad,” she said hastily. “I just think you play beautifully. I’m Manisha by the way; this is my parents’ café. Have they hired you?”

Phoebe smiled. “Thank you. I’m Phoebe. They’ve taken me on three nights a week.” She zipped her guitar case shut, and was about to make a move when Manisha stopped her.

“Wait! Would you like to join my friends and me for a little while?”

“Sure,” Phoebe said. “Not too long though, I have to get back home by ten or Denise will get mad.” Noticing Manisha’s look of confusion, she added, “My roommate!”

“Of... of course,” Manisha said. What Phoebe had said wasn’t so confusing as the way she’d said it. She took her over to the table, and sat her down. “Guys, this is Phoebe…”

“Barker,” Phoebe supplied.

Javed held out his hand in a way that was presumably supposed to be inviting. “Javed Noorani. You're a really pretty lady, you know?” Phoebe blushed a little at this, and shook his hand.

“I’m Chandu,” Chandu said shortly, earning him an odd look from Phoebe. Still, Manisha decided to be kind to him and not reveal his full name so soon.

“So… Phoebe!” she said, sensing the awkwardness settle over them like a blanket. “How did you get so good at singing?”

“Oh, I used to sing in trains,” Phoebe said casually. When everyone laughed, she shook her head. “No, really.”

Stumped, Manisha was about to change the topic when the door of the café banged open yet again. A tall, gawky man holding a dripping black umbrella entered and sat down at their table with his head in his hands. “Manisha…” he mumbled out, looking like he was on the verge of tears.

She stared up at her brother, usually so calm and confident. “Royston? What happened?”

“Carol… she…” He could barely speak. “She wants to break up.”

Manisha immediately moved to sit next to him, putting one arm around him as he struggled not to break down. “Royston, it’s okay.”

“It’s not… I… I want to talk to Mama and Dada,” he said. “Are they in?”

She sighed. “They are, but I don’t know how much talking to them is going to help.” More than likely, they were going to try to discourage him from breaking off the engagement.

“Roy, just do what you want to,” Chandu said. “You don’t need their permission, you’re over twenty-five. Come on.”

“Would _you_ think of taking any major life decision without asking your _Dadu_ 6?” Royston replied.

Chandu shrugged, conceding the point. “Alright, go. But come back soon.”

Once Royston had left, Phoebe looked at Manisha in confusion. “Is that your brother? He’s nothing like you.”

“And what’s with this Carol?” Javed added. “I didn’t even know he was with someone.”

“They’ve been engaged almost a year,” Manisha said. “And we thought everything was alright, too.” She frowned, feeling an odd surge of protectiveness over her brother.

“Maybe it’s not even that big a deal,” Chandu said. “Maybe he just misinterpreted something she said. Roy just likes to be a _panoti_.”

“What’s a _panoti_?” Phoebe asked, curious.

“Bad omen,” Manisha said. “It’s Gujarati. Chandu is literally the epitome of the perfect Gujju _bhai_.”

Chandu shoved her shoulder, sending her tumbling off the arm of the couch. “Yeah, a Gujju _bhai_ who does everything he _shouldn’t._ ”

“You carried a suitcase full of food for a five-day Goa trip,” Manisha said, picking herself back up. “If that’s not peak Gujju, I don’t know what is.”

Chandu was about to retort, when Royston returned to their table. “Guess what!” he said, sitting down heavily.

Manisha sighed. “They disagreed?”

“Worse,” he replied. “Mom started crying.”

“Oh, that was her,” Phoebe said. “And here I was thinking you cooked cats.”

Four pairs of startled eyes turned to look at her.

“What? People eat weird things in _Game of Thrones._ I’m sure the wildlings ate a cat or two to survive.”

“Anyway,” Royston continued, “she’s upset because she thinks she won’t have grandchildren.”

Manisha reared up. Of course her parents would assume _she_ would never get married or have kids. Of course they would. “Interesting. Guess I’m just chopped liver to them, then,” she said.

“Well, I wasn’t going to tell you, but since you asked…” Chandu said, smirking.

“Asshole,” she ground out, huffing and turning away from him. “Anyway, Mom is not being reasonable. It’s not like there’s no scope for you ever again, I mean you’re not even thirty yet, come on.” She scooted closer to him on the couch. “But tell me, what exactly happened?”

Royston seemed to be struggling for words. “Well… at least she didn’t try to hide it… she came straight out and told me she was in love with someone else. Just… ‘Roy, I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.’” He sniffled a little, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“Hey,” Javed said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re single now! Well, almost! You know what that means, right?”

Royston shook his head. “No, I don’t want to join Tinder or go out clubbing.”

Phoebe stood up and came closer to him. “I could help with the stress, at least? People have told me I’m very good with acupuncture…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Royston moved away from her in horror. “No! No needles!”

Manisha clapped a hand to her forehead. “Guys, I don’t know how much you’re helping. Roy, what can we do for you? You tell us.”

“I don’t think you can help me, Monu,” he said. “I don’t really know what I want… I just want to be married or something, I guess.”

Any response Manisha was thinking of was swallowed up in a loud crashing noise as the door of the café opened yet again. This time, almost every customer had turned to look at the new entrant – a beautiful, dark girl in a red and gold sari, dripping wet from the rain. Her face looked familiar, and Manisha craned her neck to see it more clearly. When she finally recognized her, she was beyond shocked.

“Radhika?” she exclaimed, just as Chandu said, “Well, I want one crore rupees!” and extended his hand in anticipation.

Radhika turned. “Manisha!” She rushed over to her and enveloped her in a hug. “Manisha, you’re here! Thank God, I went to your old house but someone told me about this new café your parents have set up and so I came here…”

Manisha backed away from the hug, brushing the water off her suit. “But why are you in this wedding dress? Trying to be a runaway bride?”

“Yes, actually!” Radhika said, finally sitting down on the couch. “But first – tell me about everyone, are these all your friends?”

Manisha nodded. “Yes, these are Chandu and Javed, they live on the same floor as I do, unfortunately. This is Phoebe, we just met her today, she plays guitar here. And this…” She pointed to Royston, who was still sitting in a half-slump. “Well, this _used_ to be my brother Royston, anyway. Remember him?”

Radhika shook hands with all of them in turn. “Hi, everyone,” she said brightly.

“Hi,” Royston said in a somewhat high-pitched voice, shaking her hand.

Javed groaned. “Why is it that every time you say hi, I feel like I would rather never hear that again?”

Manisha shushed him. “Javed, there are two people at this table with big problems right now. You can wait.”

“I drive an Uber for a living. You’re talking about problems?”

“I mean current, immediate, solvable problems. Now shut up.” She felt guilt prick her for being so mean to him, but brushed it off and turned back to Radhika. “Now are you going to tell us what happened?”

Radhika stared at the coffee table in hesitation. “So I… was going to get married to my family friend. Balachandran. Bala, remember him?”

“Yes, yes,” Manisha said. He’d visited Radhika often while she was staying in Mumbai, since he was based there. But… how had she not even known of this? Had Radhika deliberately not invited her, or forgotten to?

“And the ceremony was today. But they were dressing me up and they had put some face pack and left me in the hotel room alone… and there was a movie going on. _Charlie_. And I was looking at Dulquer’s beautiful face and I realized… well, I realized how much Bala looks like Mammootty.” She paused. “ _Current_ Mammootty 7.” She made a stifled noise that could have been either a laugh or a sob, and continued. “And I realized, I had no idea _why_ I was even getting married. I had no idea how I’d even got here, up to this point… everything that happened after graduation just seemed like a blur to me. And it was like… like the veil had fallen off my eyes all of a sudden. And… that was that. No one was there in the room, I realized I didn’t love Bala, and… I bolted!” She paused for breath again, putting her chin in her hands. “And it was raining, and I didn’t know where to go, and then I remembered you were here in Mumbai, so… I got an Uber and came here!”

“Wow, pity today’s my day off,” Javed interjected.

“Shh. So, you took an Uber to Bhayander from _where_ exactly…?” Manisha said.

“Juhu,” Radhika said. “Not that far, so it was fine. I carried my wallet along. See?” She pointed to the jeweled pouch hanging from her waist. “And I know… I know I didn’t really keep in contact with you after I went to college, but I don’t know anyone else in Mumbai. I mean I _do_ , but they’re all my relatives and they were all at the wedding, so… I’m sorry, I just need to impose on you for a few days.”

Despite how sympathetic she was feeling, Manisha couldn’t help what came out of her mouth next. “So… you came to me because I _wasn’t_ invited to the wedding. Thanks.”

Radhika, thankfully, had the grace to look embarrassed. “Yeah, I – I’m sorry about that, Amma was just really keen to invite every last relative of ours and my friends sort of got left out in the shuffle.”

“Well, at least you saved on gifts,” Phoebe said with an unnervingly large smile on her face.

“Yeah, I suppose…” Manisha said. “Anyway, Radhika, you’re more than welcome to stay at my place for a while. I just got a new flat, and I’m still looking for a roommate. So, want to come up there and look around? It’s only a few minutes from here. Let’s get you changed, too.”

* * *

 

About an hour later, all six of them were settled on the couch in Javed and Chandu’s apartment, with some sort of trashy Bhojpuri movie playing on their muted television. Manisha had loaned both Radhika and Phoebe sets of sweatpants and T-shirts from her larger days, and they looked extremely comfortable in them.

“Didn’t you have to go home, Phoebe?” Manisha asked, twisting around to look at her.

“Home?” Phoebe said, startled. “Oh! Denise! Thank you for reminding me.” She pulled out her phone – a Nokia, Manisha couldn’t help but notice – and hastily made a call.

“Hi, Denise? _Haan_ , can I come home a little late tonight? I – oh. Oh, okay.” She covered the speaker with her hand. “Can I stay with you tonight, Manisha? Just tonight. Denise likes to sleep by ten. And she’s a light sleeper.”

“Oh. Sure…?” Manisha said. Suddenly, her flat was turning into some sort of hotel, and that too, for people she had just met – or reconnected with – that day! Still, she liked hosting people, and had missed doing so while living alone. And both of them were only there for a few hours at most. So what was the harm?

“Thank you!” Phoebe said brightly. Chandu moved to unmute the TV, just as Radhika’s phone began buzzing.

“Oh shit, it’s Amma8,” she said, and hurried to a corner of the room, picking up the call. “Hello, Amma?” A barrage of rapid-fire Tamil erupted from the other end of the line, loud enough that the others could hear it.

“No, Amma, sorry, Amma,” Radhika said in a panic, before going into her own long Tamil monologue.

“Wow,” Royston said wryly. “How do they even understand each other?”

By now, Radhika seemed to be somewhere between anger and tears. “Give me a break, Amma! No, I don’t want you to break anything. It’s a metaphor, Amma…”

A few minutes later, she shut off the phone in a huff and sat down on the couch. “Now she thinks I ran away because I was on my period.”

“Well, you are kind of acting like that,” Royston pointed out. Manisha glared at him.

“Give her a break, Roy. What exactly did she say, Radhika?”

“Well – I told her I didn’t think marriage was what I really wanted from life, and she asked me if I had any other plans. And I said no. And she said, ‘Well, Bala isn’t going to wait and postpone the marriage until you figure yourself out.’ And I said ‘okay, call it off then.’ And then she called me crazy. You know what? Maybe I _am_ crazy. Because I told her I’m staying here in Mumbai with you. And never going back to Mylapore again.” She began to hyperventilate.

“Hey, calm down,” Manisha said, patting her on the back. “Breathe slowly. Slowly. One cycle every five seconds. It’ll help.” She waited till Radhika’s breathing had slowed, then let go of her. “That was pretty brave of you.”

“Brave or stupid?” Radhika said dejectedly. “I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life now. All I have is a second-class B.Des and no work experience whatsoever. And Amma said no one else is going to agree to marry me, either, because I’m so…” She indicated her face, which had a chalky pallor over it from a combination of the facemask, the rain and the tears, but was still darker than Manisha’s. Unable to speak anymore, she huddled back into the sofa.

Manisha felt a sudden surge of anger. How dare she? Radhika was one of the most beautiful girls she had ever seen. And still, her mother had the audacity to treat her like a charity case just because of her dark skin? “Your Amma is stupid,” she said. “Oh. I’m sorry… I’m sure she’s a nice lady. It’s just… what she’s saying is extraordinarily stupid. Sorry.”

“Hey, I think I can try cheering you up,” said Phoebe. “Want to hear me play something?” When Radhika gestured her assent, she took out her guitar and set it on her lap. Clearing her throat, she began to play.

“ _I am like an angel… mankind’s angel… my heart is like a_ something _… na na na… la la la… angel angel…”_

“Okay, I’m fine! I’m fine!” Radhika said, waving her arms in front of her.

Phoebe turned to Chandu and Javed with a smile. “See, I helped!”

“Hey, maybe this is all for the best, right?” Manisha said comfortingly. “You want independence, right? You want to figure out what you can be without having to depend on anyone? We’ll help you!”

“’Course we will!” Javed said. “And just remember, if you need anything, you can always come here to me.” He grinned at her. “Chandu’s never home, you know.”

“Javed!” Manisha said. “Some…” She trailed off, searching for the right word. “Some decency, please! She just ran away from her wedding!”

“But she ran away, didn’t she?” he replied.

“Shh,” Chandu said. “Watch the movie now.” He unmuted the TV, where a spider was crawling all over a woman lying on a bed.

“Ugh, that’s nasty,” said Royston, as the spider entered the woman’s cleavage. “Can we _please_ watch something else?” The woman was shaking uncontrollably now. Perhaps the spider was meant to be some sort of an aphrodisiac, because the man beside her now woke up and started kissing her.

“Sure,” said Javed, opening the channel guide. “ _Kuch Kuch Hota Hai_ 9 is coming on Sony Pictures. Want to see it?” Seeing no objections, he changed the channel. Shah Rukh and Kajol were sitting on the basketball court, flirting with each other.

Manisha sneaked a glance at Radhika, who was sitting with her hands under her chin, paying full attention to the movie. She had always been a romantic, Manisha knew; had her decision to run away been influenced by films?

“See, even they think that love only happens once,” said Royston, and everyone turned to him.

“They are the literal reason why you shouldn’t believe that statement,” Chandu said. “I mean, you aren’t going to dispute that Rahul loved Tina as much as he grew to love Anjali, right?”

“What love?” Manisha said. “If he was only able to love her once she grew her hair and feminized her wardrobe, is that really a love worth reciprocating?”

“Whoa, big words, Monu,” said Royston. “Even still, he found love again after his first one died, right? Carol isn’t even dead.” He stared into his mug of Bournvita.

“I don’t even know how you thought you were ready to get married when you still drink Bournvita,” Javed said.

“Hey, coffee is disgusting.”

“Okay, shhh, everyone!” This last statement came from Radhika, who was staring at the screen as intently as ever. “They’re going to dance!”

Manisha turned towards the screen, and sure enough, the famous gazebo scene was going on. Shah Rukh lifted up his fingers, and the music started playing.

“Is this supposed to be a very… classic movie?” Phoebe said, after she hadn’t spoken for very long. “You seem to know every scene by heart.”

“Of course!” Radhika said, just as Shah Rukh dipped Kajol and lifted her back up. “It’s my second favourite movie ever. Second only to _DDLJ_.” 

“ _DDLJ_?” Phoebe said, perplexed.

“You don’t know _DDLJ_?” Radhika said. “How long have you lived in Mumbai?”

“Five years, give or take?” Phoebe said. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been kind of busy trying to make a living.”

“Well, I’ve got to take you, then!” Radhika said, suddenly excited. “It’s still playing at a theatre here, you know? 21 years straight!" 

Kajol was now running away into the forest in despair.

“If it’s as melodramatic as this one, I don’t think I’d enjoy it,” Phoebe said bluntly. “What?” she said at Radhika’s affronted look.

“It’s a classic!” Radhika said. “I really need to improve your taste in movies!” She quieted down again, as the climax of the movie was approaching.

Manisha checked her watch. 11pm already! She was supposed to meet Parth for brunch at 11am, and she had two… friends? Acquaintances? Whatever they were, they were staying over at her house that night. “We should make a move, you know?” she said.

“Oh, Manisha! Just twenty minutes more! This is the best part,” Radhika said.

“I disagree,” Chandu said. “It would have been, had she picked Aman.”

“I know,” Royston said. “Girls never pick nice guys. They always go for the jerks.”

“That’s just an excuse guys use to mask their extremely poor skills with girls,” Manisha said, rolling her eyes.

“Man, when did my little sister become such a crazy feminist?” Royston said.

“Correction: your little sister learned how she gets screwed over by men on a daily basis and wised up.” Manisha frowned. “Why do guys think feminism is a bad word, anyway?”

Aman had now dragged Anjali to the altar, and made his famous ‘surrender’ speech. 

“Why does the movie have these creepy undertones between Aman and baby Anjali, is what I’d like to know,” Chandu said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if someone cast her opposite him now. She _is_ as old as Anushka after all.” 

“Ew, thanks for the mental image,” Manisha said, shuddering. As the wedding scene began, she stood up. “Can we go home now, please? I have a date at eleven in the morning tomorrow. This is all regular happy-family-wedding stuff anyway.” 

“You have a _date_?” Radhika interjected. “You didn’t tell me!” 

“Well – I could cancel… you and Roy both need my help now, so…”

“No, go!” both Royston and Radhika said at the same time, looking at each other in astonishment at the so-called ‘jinx’.

“I’ll be fine. Talk it out with Carol, maybe,” said Royston. “She’s probably expecting me back soon anyhow.” 

“I actually have plans for the morning, too,” Radhika said. “I have to go… get myself a job.”

“That’s great!” Manisha said, smiling. “But shall we go home, anyway? We both need to look our best, so.” She paused and turned to Phoebe. “What about you? Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

Phoebe shook her head. “Not the morning. My gig’s in your café at 7:30, so I need to prepare. But I’ll leave your place by 10:30 tomorrow. We could take a cab together?”

“Where do you live?”

“I stay with a family as a paying guest, in Santacruz. Where are you meeting your date?”

“Khar, that’s quite near. So that’s perfect!” Manisha began to move towards the door, with Radhika and Phoebe following her. “Well, good night, boys. Roy, go home now.”

Once they had reached her flat, Radhika practically jumped in excitement and ran to the inner room, where Manisha’s clothes were kept in large cartons. “We have to find you an outfit for tomorrow! Enough with the suits and sweats, already. You need to show the world how sexy you can be. Come on!”

Manisha shook her head. “I’m not you, I’ve never been you, and most importantly, I’m sleepy as hell. Can we please put off this discussion till tomorrow?” She indicated the sofa-cum-bed, which she had set up and spread sheets and pillows over. “Go to sleep. I hope you have your CV ready, we can go print it in some shop tomorrow. Phoebe, are you all right? Do you need anything? I have fruits, Bournvita, Horlicks, hot chocolate…”

“I’m fine,” Phoebe said, emerging from the bathroom after brushing her teeth. “I’ll be up by eight tomorrow. Don’t worry, I don’t sleep very deeply.” She sat down on the sofa, crossing her legs. “Wow, this is soft!” she exclaimed. “Never slept in a bed this soft before.”

Manisha smiled softly. “Goodnight,” she said as she headed to the door of her bedroom, where a lumpy mattress was covered with a sheet and a blanket. She couldn’t deny she had been missing company once she had shifted out of her parents’ house. And honestly however she came by that company, she was happy to have it. When she had been at the lowest point in her life, Radhika had been her rock. More than her family had, even. So who was she, to begrudge her some support at a low point in _her_ life? If she was being honest, she would prefer Radhika as a roommate to most of the other people she had shown the house.

Just as she was settling into the bed, her phone buzzed. It was Royston.

_Will you come over and help me talk things out with Mom and Dad tomorrow?_

She frowned in worry. _What happened? What did Carol say?_  

_It’s a confusing mess and I’m not sure I know what’s happening myself. I need someone way more organized than me to sort it out._

_Sure, when’s off-peak at the café?_

_Around 4pm, I think? Tomorrow’s Sunday, though, I think we open only at 6._

_So shall we meet at Gomes Homes at 3:30?_ She’d be done with the date by then, she reasoned.

_Sure. They shouldn’t have an issue with it, hopefully. I’ll just call them and check._

Manisha chose not to reply to that last message, reasoning that everything that needed to be said had already been said. She’d got so wrapped up in Radhika and Phoebe that she’d almost brushed aside her brother’s predicament; that wouldn’t do, surely. No matter how much he had hurt her in the past, he was still her brother. After several minutes of tossing and turning, she finally fell asleep, filled with excitement and trepidation.

* * *

 “Oh man, are you serious?”

“Yes! I don’t even know how I didn’t realize. And it was my own brother, too!”

Manisha stared sympathetically at Parth. “That must have been so hard. My brother’s going through something similar, too. How did you deal?” She picked at her salad, only half-eaten despite him already having finished his food. The food was indeed amazing here, but she still found it hard to eat heavy meals.

“Well – the divorce proceedings were really messy, but eventually I got out of there. Took me a whole year.” He laughed nervously. “Worst year of my life. But I – well, actually I better not tell you, it’s not really something to tell someone on a first date…”

“No, no, tell me!” Manisha said. She just couldn’t stop staring at his face. He was so beautiful… and the fact that he was looking in admiration at someone like her only made it sweeter. She hoped she wasn’t being too obvious about it… Clearing her throat, she took a sip of her cocktail. 

Parth smiled, seeming abashed. “I’ve – just had problems with emotional commitments, is all. No girl I’ve seen since the divorce has lasted beyond one night… I don’t know if it’s on them or me. Probably me, honestly. They can’t stand me. Even I can’t stand me, sometimes.” 

“That can’t be true!” Manisha said, reaching for his hand across the table. “Honestly! You seem like a lovely guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you. I know I would.”

He squeezed her hand. “I know this might be a bit early to say this, but Manisha, I really like you. I think we can make this work.” He chuckled under his breath, before adding, “Yeah, I know we met on Tinder, but I really do think this will be more than just a hookup.”

 _A hookup?_ Despite the alcohol in her system and her enthusiasm for the date, those two words sent Manisha into a total panic. Hook up! _No, Manisha, Tinder is just a new word for shaadi.com_ 10 _. Of course he wants to hook up!_ Chandu’s voice rang in her ears. “You want to… to…” she stammered out.

“Why not?” said Parth. “It’s Sunday, I’ve got all day, I guess you do too. And,” he said, winking at her, “you’re really hot.”

“Wow,” Manisha said, still trying to process his words. She’d never been hit on so blatantly in her life! Well, by random people on the street, yes, but not by someone she actually knew and liked. “I… thank you!” She could feel herself blushing hard enough to look like a tomato. “But… I have to meet my parents and brother at three-thirty. So… I don’t have that much time, and, well...” She had never expected or wanted things to go so far on the first date itself. But now, she couldn’t deny she was feeling oddly excited about it.

“Oh, that’s plenty of time,” he said. “Just trust me on this, you won’t regret it.”

“Well!” she said, very flustered – and flattered – by now. _Dammit, Manisha, stop acting like a fifteen-year-old._ “But – how? Where?” 

“My place, or yours?” he said. “My roommate’s out, but I don’t know when he’ll be back, so… we could risk it?”

Unable to speak, she simply nodded. She didn’t know what to feel – it was some weird cocktail of nerves and excitement forming a tangled knot in her stomach. “Sure… I guess?” 

“Alright, I’ll just pay and we can get out of here then.”

Twenty minutes later, the rickshaw pulled up in front of an apartment complex. It looked awfully… _family-ish_ to Manisha, not the type of place a bachelor would live. Still, at that moment, logic was hardly precedent in her mind; she just allowed herself to be lead up to his flat and entered once he unlocked the door.

Once the door was shut behind them, she nervously began to look around. The place was quite well-furnished; a TV unit and a sofa took up the most space in the hall. Again, strange – but further thoughts were cut off when he came close to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Oh! Well, I, what do we do now…” was all she could say, before he began to kiss her. Closing her eyes, she let herself revel in the sensation as he began to move forward and backed her against a wall. He let go of her now, pausing for breath, and she could make out vague details of the room in the light leaking through the closed blinds.

The TV unit was filled with pictures. Her suspicions aroused, she began to look more intently at them. There were black-and-white photos of an old couple… a large, colour photo of a little boy… and, finally, her eyes came to rest on a fuzzy photo of a couple getting married. Unmistakably, the groom in that photo was the very man who currently had her pinned against the wall.

In barely a second, all her excitement and her self-esteem high had vanished. Panicked, she began to calculate the best course of action to take, even as Parth began kissing her neck. Should she shout and yell and storm out on him? No, that would create an unnecessary scene. Should she coax the truth out of him indirectly? Honestly, she didn’t think she was nearly clever enough for something like that. The best way, then, was probably to bluff her way out of there. 

She broke away from him abruptly, making a big show of pointing at the wall clock. “Oh… it’s getting really late. Quarter to two already. I have to go, catch a train if I want to be home in time.” 

Parth stared at her with a slightly sulky face. “Oh, Manisha… do you have to? Come on, just a few more minutes…” One of his hands wound around her waist again, while the other came to her face and began moving along her jawline.

 _Ew, get away from me, you disgusting cheater_. She felt guilty spending even a minute longer in his presence, but she managed to maintain her composure. “No – really! I have to go. I’m sorry.” She broke free from his grasp again and moved towards the door quickly.

Parth just kept looking at her dejectedly. “Hey, at least promise me there’ll be a next time? This isn’t fair to me, you know. If you knew time was going to be an issue, you should have told me in the beginning. No one likes a cockblock.”

Manisha was beginning to hate him more and more with every word that came out of his mouth. He really was exactly the kind of guy she despised; he’d masked it very cleverly with good looks and flattering words. _God, how could I have been so stupid?_ “I – uh – sure! I’ll call you,” she lied, as she opened the door and slipped on her shoes as fast as possible. “Sorry,” she added, before shutting the door in a panic and jabbing at the lift button.

When she was seated in the train, she finally allowed herself to think. How the hell had she been misled into almost hooking up with a married man? This wasn’t her; this was so unlike her it was almost scary. Luckily, the compartment was almost empty, so she kicked off her shoes, put her feet up and hugged her knees to her chest.

In retrospect, all the signs had been there. There had been so many texts from him that she’d found weird, or shady. And though he’d never actually _asked_ her for pictures or anything of the sort, he’d spoken about sex a lot; much too frequently in her opinion. She’d always turned down his offers of sexting, but he always seemed to get quite annoyed when she had done so. And of course, _he was married._ She shuddered. _My first date, ever, and it was all a sham. What a lucky woman I am._

She could feel tears rising to her eyes, but they refused to actually come out. Perhaps she just needed time to process this. And on the plus side, she’d escaped with her clothing and dignity intact. That was more than she could say for most women lured into such situations. Anyhow, this was a trivial issue in the grand scheme of things. All she really had to do was to block him on all forms of communication and social media, and she’d most probably be all right. Right now, Royston was facing a much bigger problem than her, and she had to help him deal with it.

The train announcement of “Next station, Bhayander” shook her out of her reverie, and she went to stand near the door. Absently, she wondered how Radhika had been faring in her interviews. “Her day couldn’t have been worse than mine, surely,” she murmured to herself, and let out a sardonic chuckle. She stepped off the train as it stopped, and slung her purse over her shoulder. It was time to face the real music.

* * *

 

Luckily, her parents’ house, or ‘The Gomes Homes’, as she and Royston lovingly called it, was located within walking distance of the station. As she walked, she pondered a bit about the impending discussion. Would it really be that easy for Royston to separate from Carol? 

She knew for sure that their parents weren’t going to be happy with his decision. But his voice and his words had convinced Manisha that this was the only way for him and Carol to be happy. Apparently, she had always ‘seen him as a brother’, and had agreed to marry him only out of convenience. And then, when she met her so-called true love, she had suddenly realized that that was the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. It was all very _Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna_ 11 of her, honestly. This parallel made Manisha smile for a bit, before the seriousness of the situation snapped her back to reality. 

The so-called ‘pleasant discussion’ was going to be hard, she knew. She would have to side firmly with Royston, and somehow manage to convince their parents that this was the best solution. How, though? Still lost in thought, she realized she had reached the gate of their building. She entered, and made her way up the narrow flight of stairs.

 **Joel and Jonita Gomes** , read the inviting plaque on their door. Manisha realized her heart was pounding in her ears. Why was _she_ so nervous? This wasn’t even a matter that directly concerned her. She rang the doorbell, wondering what was the cause of her trepidation.

A few seconds later, her mother opened the door. “Did he call you?” she asked tiredly.

“Yes, is there a problem with that?” Manisha said. Slipping off her shoes, she made her way into the hall and sat down on the sofa without much invitation. Royston and Carol were sitting there too, looking tired and defeated already. “Hi, Roy,” she said, sitting down. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s just inside. He’ll be here in a while.” Jonita sat down as well, staring at the couple. “Now, are you sure about this?” 

Surprisingly, Carol spoke up. “Yes, aunty. I’m sorry.” Her small frame, nestled into the sofa cushions, looked even smaller next to Royston’s massive height. “I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore. I’ve never thought of Roy as anything more than a friend.”

“There’s still plenty of time,” Jonita countered. “You’ve hardly known each other a year. You can still work through this, I’m sure.”

“But we don’t want to,” Carol said. “We spoke last night. And we realized that we’re just too different to live together our entire lives. And besides,” she said, shifting in her seat, “I’ve met somebody else.”

Just then, Manisha’s father entered the room. Only having heard the last sentence, he looked at Carol, horrified. The whole scene was so dramatic that Manisha half-expected his head to turn towards her three times. She let out an involuntary giggle.

“Something funny?” her mother said sharply as Joel sat down beside her.

“No, no, of course not.” She covered her mouth with her hand and looked away, desperately trying not to laugh.

“So,” Royston said, “I don’t think we can continue this engagement without it feeling like a sham. She doesn’t love me, I… don’t love her, and it’s been a year since we got engaged, but things just don’t seem to be working out.” It seemed to be much harder for him to say it than for Carol.

Jonita shook her head. “How can you tell whether things are ‘working out’?” She didn’t actually make air quotes with her fingers, but Manisha could practically hear her saying them anyway. “Once you’re married, _then_ things will start falling into place. That’s what usually happens.”

“Mama, you had a love marriage,” Manisha said. 

“Not important,” Jonita said immediately.

“Still,” Joel finally said, “if you _have_ found someone, Carol, there isn’t really a point, you’re right. Have you spoken to your parents?”

Carol shifted uncomfortably. “Not yet. I’m… not sure they’ll be happy with us breaking it off either.”

“We can call them now,” Royston said. “If you want to. You can do it on your own time if you want to, also…”

“No, he’s right,” Jonita said. “Tell them now. We’ll call them.”

“Mama,” Manisha said, “that’s really not necessary. Let Carol tell them when she’s comfortable.”

Her mother sighed. “Fine… it’s your call, Carol.” She seemed to be becoming a little more amiable to the idea, even if she’d never be happy about it, Manisha knew.

“It’s been nice having you around this one year,” Joel added.

“Aunty, Uncle, I really am sorry,” Carol said. “I have liked being around you all as well. Manisha and Roy have both been really good to me. I hope this isn’t going to reflect badly on our families’ relationships.” 

 _Of course it will,_ Manisha thought. How was it going to be when Carol showed up with her new partner at summer parties and their parents would have to face hers?

Her mother seemed to echo her thoughts. Once Carol had left, she folded her arms and frowned. Well, more than she was already frowning, anyway. “Of course it will!” She glared at Royston. “That was a very stupid move.”

“Stupid, Ma?” He glared right back. “I don’t want to marry someone who’s going to feel trapped. I don’t get this concept of marriage as a transaction." 

“What are we going to look like in front of her parents now?” her father said as well. “We’ll look like fools, especially you. You’ll be the guy who couldn’t satisfy her so she ran to someone else…”

“Dada! I’m going to cut you off right there.” Royston cringed. “Please do not say _satisfy_ again. And please stop judging. Me or her. She’s a nice girl. I wish her all the best.”

After what seemed like forever, their parents finally left for the café. Manisha and Royston were left sitting in the hall together.

She moved closer to him and put her head in his lap. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be,” he replied. “I think I’m getting used to the idea myself.” He put a hand on her head absently. “How was your date?”

“Horrible,” she said. “He was married.”

“Oh, wow!” He actually laughed a bit. “Okay, I’m sorry for laughing. How did you figure out?”

“He took me to his house. With his wedding photos right there on the TV unit. I mean, how dense can someone get?” She shut her eyes. “I mean me. I can’t believe my self-esteem is so bad that I actually fell for it.”

“Hey,” he said. “Everyone makes mistakes. I did, going through this whole year in a useless engagement. There’s plenty more fish in the sea.”

“I could say the same to you, you know,” Manisha said, sitting up. “You’re the one who’s depressed about the fact that you’re never going to get someone. If you know there are plenty more fish, why don’t you cast your net?”

He smiled a little. “I don’t know if I have the confidence. Honestly, that’s why I agreed to marry Carol. I didn’t think I’d be able to ‘cast my net’, as you put it.”

“I don’t either,” Manisha said. “The trick is faking it. You should look like you know what you’re doing, even if you don’t. Javed’s great at it, you should take some tips from him.” She stood up, brushing off her skirt. “I better get home now. Radhika’s probably home from her interviews.”

Royston seemed to perk up at hearing her name. “She had an interview today?”

“Quite a few, apparently. She seemed quite confident about it. I guess she’s taking the adulting thing seriously.” She checked her watch. “It’s five. I’d be surprised if she isn’t home by now. Want to come?”

Royston shook his head. “I’ve got some papers to mark.” 

Manisha tugged on his arm. “Come on! I’ll make _paratha_ s12 for everyone. Have dinner and go.”

“Oh, fine, I’ll join you at seven.”

* * *

 

When they got back, Radhika still wasn’t there. Manisha headed up to Chandu and Javed’s flat and hammered on the door. “You didn’t kidnap her, did you?” she said when Chandu opened the door.

“Kidnap who?” he said groggily. “Your friend? No, but I don’t know if Javed has.”

“Well, that’d be a sight. A screaming girl in the back of an Uber.” Realising how terrible her statement sounded, she cringed. “You have a terrible influence on me, you know.” 

“Well, someone’s sour today,” Chandu said. “What’s eating you?”

She shrugged. “Been a long day. Mostly a terrible day, too.”

“Did your date run away screaming?” Chandu said. 

Manisha glared at him. “No _paratha_ for you, then.” She was about to storm off when he held on to her arm.

“That bad, huh?” he said, sarcasm vanishing from his voice. “Sorry.”

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging. “I better get going. I have to find Radhika.” She was halfway to her flat when she turned back around. “Seven at my place if you want dinner, okay?”

As she got back to her house, Radhika emerged from the lift. She was clutching a shopping bag and looked perky as anything. Seeing her expression, Manisha smiled as she opened the door.

“So, you got a job?”

Radhika laughed. “No way!” She entered the house and sat down on the sofa. “Everyone laughed me out. Apparently I don’t have enough ‘experience’.”

“You don’t look too torn up,” Manisha said.

Radhika grinned. “You wouldn’t either if you found…” She pulled a mass of red cloth out of the bag. “… _this_ beautiful dress in Central at half-price!” She shook it out, looking very pleased with herself.

“Radhika…” Manisha said. “I thought the whole point of you living with me was to become independent. You can’t take any more help from your parents.” 

“Hey!” Radhika said. “I bought this with my own credit card, okay?” 

Manisha folded her arms. “Yeah, and who pays for your credit card?”

“My… parents.” Radhika’s face fell. “Okay, I see what you mean.” 

“We are going to have to decide what to do about this,” Manisha said. “Café tonight?”

“I heard you shout something about _paratha_ s to Chandu?” Radhika said.

“Oh right… that’s what I had planned originally. Yeah. Let’s do that,” Manisha said. “But, Phoebe has a gig at the café tonight as well. I know she’d love to join us after it’s over. So should I call her?” 

“Why do you like her so much?” Radhika asked. “She acts like she’s never been around humans in her life.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Manisha replied. “She doesn’t seem to have had many friends. And she really seems happy to be around us, I noticed. She thanked me so much when she was leaving yesterday. What’s the harm in including her?”

Radhika shrugged. “Sure… just don’t make her into some sort of charity case? People hate it when you do that. I’m kind of hating it when you’re doing it to me.” She fell back into the sofa. For the first time, Manisha noticed how tired and desperate she looked.

“I just… want to help you,” she said. “All of you need some guidance, and I can’t help but want to fix things for you.”

“Sure, I know I need help too. But could you stop being so condescending about it?” Radhika said. “You’re acting like I’m some sort of baby who can’t take care of herself. Although,” she continued, “I am going to need some assistance to set up my life here.”

“Okay,” Manisha said. “So we’ll help you! All of us. And you can tell me if you ever feel like I’m talking down to you. I – really didn’t realize I was doing that, I’m sorry.” 

Radhika smiled and leaned against her shoulder. “You’re amazing. Thank you so much for letting me stay here.”

“Hey, anything for you. After what you did for me in 12th standard, anything would seem like insufficient repayment.” Manisha kicked off her sandals and put her legs up on the sofa. “Have you spoken to Bala yet?”

“Oh crap, no!” Radhika sat bolt upright all of a sudden. “Thank you for reminding me! I’ll… I guess I’ll do it now, before everyone comes over.” She pulled out her phone and began scrolling through her contacts. “What was the inspiration for the name and the theme of your café, anyway?”

“Royston, mostly,” Manisha said. “He’s a big nerd, but I’m sure you know that already, it’s pretty obvious. So when Dad retired, he and Mom were brainstorming for ideas for a startup. They both cook really well, so a café was one of their top preferences… and then they were searching for themes. Then one day Roy got home and began gushing to me about _Game of Thrones_ , and well – there was their inspiration! We both helped them set it up. Still, he gets most of the credit. Because his contributions are out on the walls.” She felt like a baby again, complaining about how her brother got more candy on Christmas. Still, it was a thought she rarely expressed to anyone. By the time she was finished, though, Radhika was already on the phone and looked extremely nervous. Shrugging, Manisha took out her own phone and dialled Phoebe’s number.

After a few rings, Phoebe picked up, sounding flustered. “Hi?”

“Phoebe, it’s Manisha. From yesterday.” 

“Oh, hi! I’m just on my way to your café. Will I see you there today?” She sounded quite hopeful.

“No, but I actually called about that only,” Manisha said. “We’re meeting up at my place today, I’m making _aloo paratha_ s for everyone. Come over after your gig’s done?” 

“Yeah, sure,” she said. “I’ll be done by eight. I’ll be at your place by eight-fifteen then. Is that okay?”

“Perfect. Thanks, Phoebe!” Manisha put down the phone, feeling a lot better. 

* * *

 

“Do we really need to do this?” Radhika said, pouting. She was sitting on the sofa, surrounded by her credit cards and holding a box of matches. “I can stop using these anytime I want, you know.”

Manisha patted her on the shoulder. “It’s more of symbolism than anything, you know. If you don’t have the cards, you’ll feel less tempted to spend your parents’ money.”

“Yeah, you can’t live off them your whole life,” Royston added.

“I know! That’s why my parents wanted me to get married!” Radhika said, clearly flustered.

“Hey,” Phoebe said. “Give her a break! It’s hard being alone in the big city, you know.” 

“Thank you!” Radhika said.

“Yeah,” Phoebe continued. “I came to Mumbai when I was eighteen because I tracked down my brother here. But I still haven’t been able to find him. And I had to sleep on benches for a while and sing and sell stuff in trains to make money. Then I started living in a hostel and singing at bars and cafés and now I finally have a proper house. So trust me, I understand.”

There was at least five seconds of silence following her statement.

“Well,” Javed finally said, “I’m sorry, Phoebe…” 

“Don’t be,” she said casually. “Be nice. Help me if you’d like to. Don’t just be sorry and sit on your ass.”

“… Okay,” he said, deflated.

“Okay, Radhika!” Manisha said. “Come on, burn it!” She tapped the top of the small table where her cards were kept. “Everyone! Cheer her on!”

She was met with silence again.

“Really?” Chandu said. “Really? _That’s_ the way you’re going to encourage her?”

“Yes!” she said, oblivious to his taunts. “Come on, Radzie! Burn it! Burn it! Burn it!”

“Burn it! Burn it! Burn it!” Javed cheered with her. 

Finally, Radhika reluctantly lit a match. “I still don’t see the point,” she said, cringing as the plastic began to melt. “It feels like I’m jumping off a running train.”

“You can do this,” Manisha said. “You can do anything! You can help me make the _raita_ too once this is done.” Radhika had never been a great cook and Manisha knew it, but knowing how to cook was one of the most important steps towards being able to live on your own.

“Last time I made coffee for someone, they got food poisoning!” Radhika said, distressed. She threw another card into the smoldering fire, trying her best not to cry.

“It’s just _raita_! How hard can it get?” Manisha said encouragingly, even though the last statement was worrying her a bit. “You just chop up stuff and put it in yogurt.”

Finally, the last of the cards was in the fire, and Manisha hugged Radhika, who clung to her.

“Congratulations!” she said. “Time for you to enter the real world!”

* * *

 Two hours and many _parathas_ later, Chandu, Javed and Phoebe staggered out of the house, all raving about the food.

“Manisha, you are the best,” Phoebe said, hugging her tightly as she left. “It really is lovely to have friends for the first time.”

“Anytime, Pheebs,” Manisha said, before backtracking. “Wait. Can I call you Pheebs?”

“Of course!” Phoebe said, her face breaking into the biggest smile Manisha had ever seen, before heading off with a final wave.

“Well, that’s that,” Manisha said, walking back into the house, where Royston and Radhika were watching MTV together.

“You want to crash here tonight, Roy?” she asked. “You can use my room. I’ll make up some sort of mattress for myself.”

“No, no,” he said. “I’ll go once the countdown is over.” It was still on number 8, which meant there was at least half an hour to go.

“Okay, awesome,” she said. “I’ll just go clean up in the kitchen, okay?”

Halfway through her sink full of dirty dishes, she heard voices coming from the hall. Sensing that the conversation was getting interesting, she perked up her ears. 

“… so I don’t know if you know this,” Royston was saying, “but actually, I used to like you a lot. Back when you and Manisha were friends in your 12th standard.”

Manisha grinned. So Roy was taking her advice after all. She could practically hear the nervousness in his voice and imagine how it looked as he was saying those words. 

“Oh… I kind of… _mujhe shak tha_ 13,” Radhika said, which made Manisha smile more. Her Tamil-accented Hindi had always seemed adorable to her. “But I guess it’s nice to get confirmation from the source.” She laughed a little.

“I didn’t think you’d notice me, you know,” Royston said. “I always felt like the, you know, the… nerd guy. Out of your league types?”

Following a bit of silence, Manisha heard him speak again. “So – don’t just agree to make me feel happy or anything, okay? But – I think I still like you, quite a bit. So… would you want to go out with me sometime? Not like, formally, okay? Just, you know… just like going out.” He was babbling, the way he usually did when he was nervous.

“Oh,” Radhika said. “Sure! Why not? But listen, not for a while, okay? I need to get my life in order first. I’m actually thinking of waitressing at your café, don’t tell anyone. You too, Manisha,” she said slightly louder. “I know you’re listening to us.”

“That’s, uh, that’s no problem at all!” Royston said. “I’ll wait, don’t worry. Crap, that makes me sound desperate, doesn’t it?”

“I… don’t ask me, okay?” Radhika said, although she sounded surprisingly gentle. “Well, it’s the interval. I better go get changed now. Goodnight!”

Once she had headed off, Manisha popped out of the kitchen, grinning ear to ear at Royston. “Well!” she said.

“I cast my net, huh?” he said, holding out his hand for a high-five.

“Yup!” she replied, returning it with enthusiasm. “Good on you, Roy.”

“I better go now,” Royston said. “Goodnight. Nice _parathas_.” He hugged her quickly and left the house.

Manisha smiled to herself, sitting down heavily on the sofa. What a crazy two days it had been. And overall, things seemed to be working out well. “Good on you,” she whispered, high-fiving herself. “You know what’s not so good, though? The fact that you’re twenty-three and still talk to yourself.”

**Author's Note:**

> [1] - A kurti or a kurti top is a short version of a kurta, an upper garment worn by many men and women in India.  
> [2] - Govinda is a Bollywood filmstar of the 80s and 90s, well-known for his garish costumes and inventive dance choreography.  
> [3] - A song from a 2009 movie known for being easy to play on guitar.  
> [4] - "She's a hottie, man."  
> [5] - "Shut up."  
> [6] - Paternal grandfather.  
> [7] - Mammooty and Dulquer Salmaan are a father-son duo who act in Tamil movies.  
> [8] - A way to address your mother in most South Indian states.  
> [9] - Classic romantic Bollywood movie.  
> [10] - Matrimonial website popular in India.  
> [11] - Bollywood movie dealing with infidelity.  
> [12] - Potato-stuffed flatbread.  
> [13] - "I had a suspicion."


End file.
